


My Love For You Is Like A Truck

by elanorofcastile



Category: Clerks. (1994), Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Clerks AU, Community: reel_startrek, Crack, Current Day AU, F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 17:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elanorofcastile/pseuds/elanorofcastile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Classy illustrated hooker pamplets. If interested, contact James T. Kirk at ENT Video.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Love For You Is Like A Truck

**Author's Note:**

> My endless thanks to wook77 for being my fandom pimp. She poked me to sign up, cheerleaded and beta'd. The beta'ing alone should get her a gold medal, since I'm the fastest tense-switcher east of the Mississippi, and she caught all of them! Definitely the best braintwin a gal could ask for.
> 
> Written for the LJ community reel_startrek in 2010.

He wasn't even supposed to be here today. Honestly, why the hell had Bones let Pike ruin a perfectly good Saturday by making him open the shop and haul his grumpy ass in to deal with stupid customers? That's right, 'cause he didn't want to get fired. So here he was, hungover, pissed off, half-asleep and hungry.  
  
Bones had just started to grasp falling asleep with his eyes open -- had to keep those idiots on their toes with a minimum amount of effort -- when a whirlwind came flailing through the door. Jim managed to catch himself before he fell, half dropping two coffees and donuts on the counter.  
  
"What, my coffee's not good enough for you?"  
  
"Dude, your coffee is shit. I'm not starting a Saturday Hellday by poisoning myself. Actually, that could be useful. Can I steal your coffee and offer it to the idiots coming to the video store as a sort of deterrent?"  
  
"I think they'd be suspicious enough of you being nice that they wouldn't drink it and your plot would fail. So, no."  
  
"Way to be a spoilsport, Bones. Can't a man have any fun?"  
  
"Were you a man, we could make an argument in your favor, but you're still a child, so you've got nothing."  
  
"You wound me! After I bring you food and drink on this day of rest, you insult me. Maybe I'll just take these and go back to ENT Video and leave your old ass to sit and decompose."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. We both know you won't, so calm the fuck down and drink your coffee."  
  
Jim huffed and came around the counter, snagging the free stool and slumping into it. He sipped his coffee, sighing at the perfection of the taste. "Fucking Saturdays, man."  
  
Bones frowned at his cup, taking a deep drink before rolling his shoulders to try and wake up. "I know, right?"  
  
"Mmhmm."  
  


~*~*~*~

  


Jim sat on the counter beside Bones, heels knocking the magazine rack as he eyed the possible paths for his balled up newspaper. "If I make it to the beer tower, I win."

Bones dug in the bag of donuts with a frown. "Win what, a nonspecific favor? Is this redeemable immediately for -- knowing you -- sexual favors or held over my head for later redemption?" He made a sound of triumph when he recovered the last glazed.

"Fine, I'll make it more tangible. I make it to the beer tower, I get a handjob. I miss and you get one." Jim shrugged. "Hit the back cooler and you have to blow me."

Bones jabbed himself in the face with his donut, trying to nonchalantly wipe glaze from his face. "You wish you'd be so lucky."

"Hey, obviously you're being fulfilled emotionally by Chapel, since you're not being a mopey bastard about Jocelyn, but maybe you need to be shown what the other side is like."

"Chapel and I aren't... I know what the... You're such a child, Jim."

Leering, Jim eyed the distance to the stack of Bud Light, trying to estimate the effect any cross-breezes would have on the ball of paper. Bones was unable to stop staring at Jim's mouth, running his tongue along his lower lip before tasting sugar and coming back to the moment. Jim was quiet, but the curl of his mouth let Bones know he'd been caught. Sniffing and picking at his donut, Bones shrugged. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. Just watch out for the vent over the motor oil, since it'll kick on in approximately five, four, three..."

As expected, Jim flung the ball towards the back of the store, his haste keeping it from going beyond the start of the aisles. Swearing, Jim hopped down off the counter to retrieve the paper.

"Oh wait, it's Saturday, not Tuesday. My bad."

"Fuck you, Bones, playing dirty." Jim snatched the end of Bones's donut from him, jamming it into his mouth and chewing obscenely as he flipped Bones off.

Rolling his eyes, Bones just wiped the last of the glaze off his fingers. "Hey, it was you that raised the stakes to a level at which I felt compelled to bring out tricks to avoid the consequences. Namely, to keep your oversexed dick out of my mouth. Who knows what I could've caught? What's your latest tally up to, O Great Lothario?"

"Thirty-six and you'd've been lucky thirty-seven, you inhibited bastard. Should I make you an IOU for the handjob, to be delivered when you get the stick out of your ass?" Jim leaned across the counter, sucking the glaze off his fingers with an eyebrow waggle.

"Ha fucking ha." Bones pushed a napkin into Jim's hand, definitely not watching the careful strokes of Jim's tongue over the pad of his thumb.

The door chimed as a customer came in, a bleary-eyed college kid reeking of last night's booze, heading for the Bud Light tower. He blinked down at the floor when he kicked the ball of paper, stepping over it and shuffling over to hug a 24 pack.

Jim proclaimed, to the hangover-induced cringing of their customer, "I'll go see if there's some pens in the back, see if I can start on your 'one free handjob' coupon."

Bones put his head in his hands as the student shuffled up to the counter. "I want to apologize for him, he's just a douchebag."

"No prob, bro. I'm no one to deny another a good handjob, no matter which way they swing. Pack of Camels, too."

Bones glowered at the guy's driver's license, muttering about being a gentleman and not putting out on the first date, no matter how perfect Jim's ass was as he went through the motions of the transaction until he handed over the change.

"Whatever lets you sleep at night." The door chimed again as he left. Bones frowned at the counter when Jim came from the back and slapped a sheet of paper down in front of him.

"And my art teacher said I'd never amount to anything. A coupon that'd make a hooker jealous. Hey there you go, that can be my side job when I'm waiting for the sadsack movie renters to get their rom-com schlock and go home to their cats. Classy illustrated hooker pamphlets."

"I think I'll frame this and put it next to my family portrait. It'll be the talk of Thanksgiving when people see that I managed to have one up on James T. Kirk. Can't wait." Bones flicked at the glitter that had spread on the counter, frowning a little before carefully setting it on the shelf under the counter. He rubbed his nose absently as he swirled the last of his cold coffee in his cup. Jim set a fresh cup next to him, brushing the glitter off Bones's nose.

"Can't wait myself, but I gotta check in next door, see if anyone's dying for Busty Beach Coeds 3. It would be cruel of me to deprive anyone of that quality entertainment. Back in five."

Bones grunted, waving him off as he took a sip, rubbing at his nose again. Jim shook his head as the glitter once more covered Bones's nose, ducking out of the shop.

~*~*~*~

  


Noon was rapidly approaching and Bones sat alone in the shop, surreptitiously reading the fashion recommendations in the back of that month's Maxim. Jim had been forced to go back to his own store instead of hiding behind the counter at Bones's feet, tying his laces to the stool and generally haranguing the customers in ridiculous voices. When a woman came in threatening to set fire to the video store if Bones didn't call "that lazy jackass to open the goddamn doors", Jim decided that he preferred to keep his slacker job and not subject Bones to smoke inhalation and snuck into the video store through the back.

The Tastykakes display was starting to look tempting when the door chimed and Christine Chapel breezed in, arms full of medical texts and Tupperware containers that she set on the counter. Bones grinned, leaning over the counter to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"How'd you know I was about to maul the snack display? Saving me from my own sugar coma, you're the queen." Bones opened the nearest container, making a happy noise at discovering a turkey sandwich and apple slices.

"Yeah, yeah. More like I want you to keep your girlish figure so I can save on the electrical bill by doing laundry on your abs. Zing!" Christine stole an apple slice as she sorted through her textbooks. "Nah, I was just tired of studying at my place so I figured I could ply you with food and you would be satiated enough for me to nag you about going back to med school and not have you get pissed at me."

Bones groaned, pushing away his sandwich. "Fuck, Christine, not today. Today is a no-nagging day. I might gouge my eyes out with this Tupperware lid if anything more goes wrong. I've got six more hours and then I can sleep until Monday."

Christine raised her hands in defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone today. But just so you know, you can't avoid me forever, Wendy, hanging out with Peter Pan next door."

"Hey, just because I got drunk and put on a dress that  _one_  time, doesn't make me Wendy. Hmmph." Bones fishes out another apple slice with a scowl, pushing back from the counter to grab a soda from the cooler.

Wandering through the back aisles to check that no one had set anything on fire when he wasn’t paying attention, Bones nearly tripped over the man sitting in front of the small egg and dairy case. The man blinked up at Bones, clutching his notepad to his chest while trying to protect the eggs lined up in front of him. Unsure of exactly what to do, Bones retreated back to his counter.

"Christine, you wouldn't believe --"

A sharp squeal of tires and the door slammed open. A harried-looking woman came in, brandishing her phone. "Have you seen a man: dark hair, notebook?"

"Yeah, he's back by the eggs."

"I should have known. The new class rosters just came through, so he's retreated back into research mode."

“Wait, research mode? Researching what, eggs?"

“Yeah. We're both professors up at MIT, but the department head has a grudge -- whatever, academic dick waving -- so Spock gets stuck with a freshman class every fall semester." Bones and Chapel cringed. "Exactly. So, he retreats into his research, trying to find perfect representation of mathematical surfaces. Last week was taking Pringles cans apart to find saddles, this week looks to be eggs."

Bones offered, "I guess it could be worse?" The woman leveled him with a look. "Uh, I mean, he could just be interrogating them? Trying to collect a debt from their... fathers?" He trailed off, mumbling, "Chicken mafia."

She looks at him again, disdain written across her face. "Sure. Chicken mafia. I'll just head to the back then. Thanks."

Bones and Christine sat in silence as she coaxed Spock out of the back, nodding a farewell as they left. He leaned over the counter to watch her bundle Spock gently into passenger seat, notebook tucked under her arm as she listened to his detailed discoveries. Bones smiled a bit to himself as she fastened his seat belt and brushed a quick kiss over Spock's cheek.

"I have to say, if I had to teach MIT freshman, I would not be in as good of shape as he is. Pretty sure I'd've set the department building on fire after the first day."

Christine's words brought Bones back to himself, the small smile exchanged for the familiar crease between his eyebrows. "Yeah, or become customers of the miscreants who hang out outside the shop all day. Where ever those two are."

"Hmm, yeah. You aren't known for your self-control at the best of times. How's that going with Jim, by the way?"

Bones cringed. "Damn it, Christine, that's a low blow."

Setting her textbook down, she pointed a finger at him. "First,  _Leonard_ , does he even know we're not sleeping together? That I'd rather kiss my anatomy professor than make a move on you?"

"Oh, thanks, Chrissy. I'm glad to find out that I'm less desirable than a handsy 85 year old man." Christine gave him a flat look. "Fine, no. I don't think he believes me that we're not together, no matter how many times I tell him. What do you want me to do, strip naked and paint 'Please fuck me, Jim Kirk' on my body with shoe polish?"

"I would pick something that smelled better, but sure, go for it. It's Jim, Len, not exactly best at picking up subtle hints, hmm?" Christine sighed, stacking her books and papers back up.

"Look, just, I don't know, tell him or don't, but stop being pathetic. I saw you eyeing the professors, you're a horrible romantic, but right now you need to embrace your inner caveman and carry Jim off to your cave." Bracing the books against her hip, she patted Bones on the cheek with her free hand. "Go get him, Tarzan."

"Wait, but, Christine --" She winked, pushing the door open with her hip, holding it open for Jim to duck back into the shop before heading to her own car. "Hmmph."

"Women, hmm? Oooh, sandwich!" Jim snagged the uneaten half of Bones's sandwich, wolfing it down. Bones just boggled at him, trying to figure out what he could possibly see in this man. Jim wiped the back of his hand across his face with a small frown. "What? Do I have turkey on my face?"

"No, you're fine, Jim. Just fine."

~*~*~*~

  


"Ring a ding ding, motherfuckers!"

Not even looking up from his magazine, Jim shot back, "Shut the fuck up, Chekov, you tiny Russian menace."

"I'm wounded, Kirk. And such language! Do you kiss McCoy with that mouth?" Chekov winked, elbowing Sulu.

"Nah, but I do kiss your mother down on the corner." Bones swatted Jim's shoulder. "What? This guy's a threat to polite society, I gotta be nice to him?"

Chekov snorted, nudging Sulu again and leaning up to murmur in his ear. Jim frowned and started to open his mouth, swearing as Bones hipchecked him to the side, shooting Jim a sharp look. "Look, you didn't come in just to harangue Jim, what do you want?" 

"Aw, you're no fun, McCoy. Ah well, such is the lives of married couples. I'll just take a pack of Black Death and Marb reds. Hikaru, the delicate flower, will have menthol lights."

Bones stepped on Jim's foot as he reached above him to pull the packs down, pressing harder before he turned to grab the papers, ignoring Jim's hiss of pain. "Just don't corrupt the youth of today where I can see you, or I will call the cops. Got it?" At Chekov's broad grin, and shrug, Bones shook his head. "Fine. Here's your change, now go away before I let Jim impugn your mother's honor more."

"Always good to do business with this fine establishment, even if the neighborhood isn't --" Chekov looked Jim up and down "-- the best. C'mon, Hikaru, let's go make out in the alley and let the married couple clutch their pearls."

"Lead me on, Great Navigator!" Sulu saluted Jim and Bones before dashing out the door after Chekov.

Jim hauled back and punched Bones in the shoulder. "What the fuck, Bones, you gotta break a guy's foot? I thought you were supposed to do no harm."

Bones rolled his eyes, pushing Jim towards the stool. "Sit down, you infant. I hardly broke it, just needed to keep you from starting a battle with that kid in the middle of the store. You can do it on your own time, but not today. Please."

"Fine, but I get to keep the stool. Hmm, think I can close the video store due to personal injury? Maybe take a sick day and stay off my feet until I recover from this injustice."

"Whatever, princess. Need me to forge a doctor's note? Har, har." Jim perked up. "No, I'm not going to do that, you slacker." 

Bones rubbed his hands across his face. "Just, look, you've got an hour left to be open next door, go finish out your shift then you can come back and bitch at me all you want for the rest of mine. Okay? Hell, I'll even have a Tastykake and orange Gatorade waiting for you, just give me an hour of peace."

"Okay, Grandma McCoy, I'll stay off your lawn for another hour, but you better tell me what the hell Chapel said to put this bug up your ass or I'm egging her place like it's 1999." Jim hopped off the stool, giving a big show of grimacing when he put weight on his foot before hobbling to the door. Turning and pointing at Bones, Jim repeated, "Like it's 1999," before doing a quick jig and leaving.

Grumbling, Bones sat in the damned stool. He sat quietly enjoying the nonexistent customer traffic. No, he wasn't avoiding Jim, no matter what Christine's voice in his head told him. It was just that he needed a nap. A man wasn't expected to be up before noon on a Saturday, but here he was. Avoiding the possibility of saying anything inappropriate to his best friend was just a bonus as Bones hid his head in his crossed arms, slumping over the counter and falling asleep, oblivious to the glitter migrating from the countertop up his arms.

~*~*~*~

  


Bones jolted awake, the quiet jingling of the bell over the door sharp enough to cut through the quiet hum of the store. Turning to look at what could be causing the door to vibrate, Bones was presented with the bare stretch of Jim's stomach as he stretched to reach something at the top of the door. Tearing his gaze away from the blatant skin, Bones looked up to see that Jim was actually trying to tear something off the door, to Chekov's jeers. Making a sound of success, Jim pulled the paper off the door and flipped off Sulu and Chekov. Bones noticed that Jim's shirt is still up, caught on his side and leaving some of his hip still exposed.

Realizing he might get caught looking, Bones tried to cover with a stretch and yawn. Jim came in while Bones scrubbed his hands through his hair, frowning at the small amount of glitter that fell back to the counter.

"Oh shit, sorry Bones. I always forget that glitter is like herpes: once you open it up, it never goes away. I'll choose my art supplies more wisely the next time I make you a present." Jim hopped up on the counter, leaning back so his head is nearly in Bones's lap, reaching back to brush more glitter from his hair. "Now, where's my Gatorade?"

Bones pushed Jim's hand away and shoved him off the counter. "I'll make sure to get some glitter-Valtrex or whatever's going these days. Go get your own Gatorade, you child."

Grabbing Bones's wrist, Jim pouted and tugged. "Here I thought you'd have my snack waiting, like you promised. Ah well, I'll just force you off your ass to join me on a stroll to cold refreshment. At the least, we can make the girl who works tomorrow think her vampire prince  _came_  in the night, leaving his glitter love everywhere. Or whatever the fuck kids these days are reading."

Bones grumbled, letting Jim lead him to the back cooler. "You'd know best, you're closest to their age." When Jim guided his hand to the door handle, Bones pulled free of his grip. "Fine, I'm not a puppet, I'll get it." Pulling a Gatorade out and pressing it into Jim's hands, Bones turned and forced himself not to run back to the front counter. The whump of the bag of chips against his back pulled him up short though.

"What the fuck, Jim! Are you suddenly five again?" Bones picked up the bag of chips and shoved it back onto the shelf, getting a bag of Funjuns to the side for his trouble. "Cut it out, you burst the bag, it's your ass that's paying for it."

Jim inched closer to Bones, trailing a hand along the shelf of chips. "Get your panties out of a wad, Bones, I'll be good. You still owe me an explanation though. And a 'kake. With a k, none of that Little Debbie shit. But mostly an explanation. What did the mister say to get you in a tizzy, Mrs. McCoy?"

Bones closed the distance between them, grabbing a fistful of the front of Jim's shirt. "Chapel and I are not dating, Jim. We're not doing anything. Leave it alone." He let go of Jim's shirt with a bit of a push, striding purposefully to the front of the store before being brought up short again by something hitting him. Turning, he saw Jim with a handful of candybars, a Snickers at Bones's feet. 

"If it's not a lover's quarrel, why are you acting like you're in a country song and someone shot your horse? Huh?" He chucked another bar at Bones, missing by a long shot. "I'll keep pelting you until you answer, I swear."

"I'll start a tab. And no, this isn't for you, so leave it."

Jim sprinted forward to haul Bones back by the waistband of his jeans. "What could be so terrible you couldn't tell me, your best friend? If you need to hide a body, you know I'm good for it. Hmm?"

Bones tried to keep his breath even as Jim pressed up against him, hand still tight on his jeans. The back of Jim's hand threatened to set his skin on fire and Bones needed to break the moment. His hand went out to the nearest display, the crinkle of cellophane under his fingers giving away his find.

"I said leave it alone, Jim. So here's your freakin' 'kake." Bones smooshed the package into Jim's face, chocolate cake bursting from the package and smearing across Jim's face. At Jim's outraged cry, Bones twisted away, chucking another Tastykake at him. He managed to get a step away before Jim tackled him to the ground, knocking over the Tastykake display, pinning him down bodily in the pile.

"I can fight dirty, too, Bones, don't worry about it." Jim scoops up a handful of cake before grinding it into Bones's hair. Bones tried to break free but Jim easily pinned him on his back, crouching over him as he laughed breathlessly. "Older brother, dude. You can't win."

Bones tried to buck his hips to dislodge Jim, but gave up in defeat. He glared up at Jim silently, ready to wait it out until he inevitably got bored and went away. And that was it, wasn't it? Jim always got bored and went away, numbers one through thirty-six could attest to that. Bones didn't want to just be number thirty-seven, he wanted to be  _it_ .

Jim frowned down at Bones, surprised that he'd given up that easy and sunk into a funk so fast. He released Bones's wrists, shifting his weight so he wasn't pinning him quite so completely. "Look, Bones, I know I'm a douchebag, but man. What could be so bad that you couldn't tell me? You're stuck with me whether you like it or not."

Flexing his wrists, Bones studied Jim's face. He smiled slightly at the chunk of cake stuck to his cheek, but the glitter on his chin caught his eye. "You know what? Fuck it. Carpe diem or something like that." 

Bones pulled Jim down into a kiss before he could respond. It was awkward and messy, but he pulled back before Jim could do more than kiss back automatically. Bones was suddenly very aware of Jim leaning over him, staring at his mouth, and took advantage of Jim's confusion to flip him over and stand.

Brushing off his pants, Bones stepped around Jim to get a broom and compartmentalize. Jim recovered from his sprawl on the floor to swipe at Bones's leg before jumping to his feet.

"Hey. Hey! Don't walk away." Jim tried to lay a hand on Bones's shoulder, but he just shrugged it off and kept going. "Leonard Horatio McCoy, don't you dare walk away."

Bones turned, forearm across Jim's chest pinning him to the shelves. "No, Jim. That's exactly what I'm going to do. I don't want to be another number for you, so I'm going to walk away." He pushed off Jim's chest, missing the hurt look on Jim's face as he opened the storage closet to get a broom.

Grabbing the broom and dustpan, scowling mask up, he shouted, "And that's at least twenty-five bucks for the 'kakes you ruined, asshole."

The shadow across his feet was all the warning Bones had before Jim crowded him into the closet and pulled the door shut behind him. He grabbed the front of Bones's shirt and slammed him against the wall, a grunt of surprise all he could get out before Jim kissed him. Pulling back, Jim growled, "You're the fucking asshole, asshole."

He kissed Bones like he wanted to punch him, punish him, pound the truth into him. Bones tried to push against Jim's chest, but he stood sure, not letting go of his shirt. He turned his head away from the kiss, Jim's lips chasing along his cheek, trying to find Bones's mouth again. Bones worked a hand up between their faces, blocking Jim. "Stop it, Jim. Stop, damn it."

"What, Bones? What? Do you need me to make a grand declaration? Look at me.  _Leonard_ . Look. At. Me." Jim shakes Bones by his shirt. "Do you know, Bones, who thirty-six was?"

Bones scoffs. "I don't have time for this shit. Let me go and we can move on --"

" _No_ . This is one of those times you have to just listen, okay?" Frowning, Bones nodded. "I asked, do you know who thirty-six was?"

"No, Jim. I don't. Why don't you enlighten me."

Jim ignored the sarcastic curl of Bones's lip, pressing on. "Thirty-six was Monty. Monty Scott. You remember, he worked at the auto body place two blocks over."

"Congratulations, Jim, you sucked off a mechanic. Do you want a medal?"

"You don't get it, do you? He moved away over a year ago, Bones. A  _year_ . And do you want to know why he was number thirty-six?" Bones didn't offer any sound, only crooking an eyebrow. "Because I wanted you to be thirty-seven to a billion."

Bones's snort was cut off by Jim pressing his lips back to his. His grip loosened on Bones's shirt, one hand coming up to touch his face, sliding back into his hair. Bones stayed tense not giving in until the small stroke of Jim's thumb along the edge of his ear. He shivered and conceded, relaxing into Jim and giving in to the kiss. His hands stay at his sides, but his lips parted and he leaned into Jim.

He felt Jim let go of his shirt, hand coming up to cup the back of his head. Bones let his hands settle on Jim's sides, enjoying the feeling of Jim's shivers. His palms absorbed Jim's warmth through the thin t-shirt, fingers flexing, trying to gauge Jim's reaction. When Jim slid both his hands into Bones's hair, breathing hard through his nose, Bones slid his hands up Jim's sides until his thumbs hovered over the S and the U of his STFU shirt. His fingers traced lines of heat along Jim's ribs, discovering him in a way he'd not let himself think about too much. He was worried that if he moved too fast, pressed too hard, he'd wake from the dream.

They stood like this, connected by hands and mouths, until they broke their kiss. Bones buried his face in the crook of Jim's neck, breathing hard, but didn't move his hands from their places on Jim's body. He focused on the rhythm of Jim's breath across the back of his neck, a grin threatening to break free as Jim's words came back to him. "A billion, huh?"

Jim smiled, tugging lightly at Bones's hair. "What can I say, you inspire me to new levels of smoothness."

"Hmm, I'm not sure 'smoothness' is the word you're looking for." Bones pressed a kiss to Jim's jaw. He felt Jim's hands move, sliding down his shoulders, smoothing out the twists of his shirt their grasping had created. They trade small kisses as they resettled clothing, fingercombing hair flat, returning to presentable. Or at least as presentable as a well-kissed Jim Kirk could look.

Jim cleared his throat as they finally parted. "Are you, I mean, are we okay?"

Bones considered, studying Jim in the half-light of the closet. "Yeah, we are."

"Awesome." Jim ran one last hand through Bones's hair before clapping him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's get this crazy day over with, it's gotta be closing time."

Bones swiped at Jim's head, laughing when bits of chocolate fell from his hair before grabbing the forgotten broom to shoo him out of the closet.

"It's about goddamn time." 

Bones tripped, saved by Jim's hand on his elbow. "Christine, what are you... I mean, hi, what's up?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously your courage, if you finally sacked up and got some. Though I will say, I don't know whether to go with a slumber party game joke or the obvious joke about closets."

"Yeah, yeah. You're so clever."

"You have no idea. But really, I left a couple pages of notes and found a warzone. I figured I'd stay until I figured out if I needed to call an ambulance or start planning the wedding. I guess I'll call the caterer then." Christine pulled out her phone and started tapping into it before Bones lunged to try to take it from her. 

"Oh, chill out. I'm totally kidding. But you do totally owe me for cleaning up the chocolate destruction up front. I might go hold a vigil for the Tastykakes that sacrificed their lives that you two could finally get unstuck and make out." She saluted them with her papers. "Have a good rest of your weekend, don't scandalize your neighbors too much."

Jim and Bones stared after her, coming back to themselves with the final chime of the bell. Bones scratched the back of his neck, frowning at the cake crumbs he comes up with. "So, ah, that was interesting."

"That's a word for it, yeah." Jim reached over to brush crumbs from Bones's shoulder, smoothing his hair back before pulling back and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "So, Bones."

"Yeah?" He turned towards Jim, hoping he didn't make a mistake, that this wasn't going to bite him in the ass. He felt more at ease, though, when seeing Jim's surprisingly shy smile.

"So, I've got this pizza in the freezer that's not going to eat itself. What do you think?"

A grin splits Bones's face. "Why Jim Kirk, are you offering to make me dinner? You have to know I'm a gentleman and never put out on the first date."

"A gentleman, no, but a classy broad who gets loose after a few beers, yes. I promise not to take advantage though." Jim smacked Bones's shoulder. "Buckle up, Bones, you're about to be wooed by James T. Kirk." He winked and walks away with a spring in his step.

Bones rolled his eyes, muttering, "What the hell have I gotten myself into."

Jim shouted from the front, "If you play your cards right, me!"

Casting his eyes upwards for patience, Bones headed to the front, ready to close and get this ridiculous day over with. "Whatever you say, Jim."


End file.
